Bamboo and blood

4

I would have slept past noon if the maid hadn't knocked midmorning. "Go away," I shouted, but she kept knocking. Finally, I flung open the door. "Are you hard of hearing? I told you to go away. I'm sleeping. Can I do that? Is it all right with you? Is there a regulation in your tidy land against sleeping late?"

"It's not my land. I am from Romania, and I was only checking to make sure you're not sick again. They don't want some strange epidemic coming out of this hotel. There are all sorts of health people in this city; they can be very strict sometimes. Believe me, I know."

"I'm not sick, I'm never sick." I stuck out my tongue. "You see? I'm fine."

The maid was holding a few pieces of fresh linen. She handed them to me. "Make your own bed then. I'm not going to wait around for you. My friends says I don't even have to go into your room if you've been sick."

"It's good to have friends," I said and closed the door. Just as I got back into bed, the phone rang.

"Hello, Inspector, how are you?" It was Jeno. He didn't sound happy. There were undertones of urgency flowing through his voice, the way silk sounds when it catches on a nail.

"I was trying to sleep, actually."

"It's well past noon! Your watch must have stopped. Meet me downstairs in twenty minutes. We'll have lunch."

"Nothing elaborate."

"Fine, nothing elaborate."

"Nothing that has been near a lamb."